


spring tide

by oneworldaway



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneworldaway/pseuds/oneworldaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there will always be good nights and bad nights, helena knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spring tide

there will always be good nights and bad nights, helena knows. the first time myka is there for one of the bad ones, she wordlessly climbs into bed next to helena and wraps her arms around her, holding her as she quietly weeps. with myka’s warmth to anchor her, the darkness doesn’t feel like emptiness; the night is just the night. for once, she doesn’t think about racing the sun to the horizon, jumping off the edge of the earth and plunging herself into the night sky. it no longer sounds like a comfort.

because the bad nights aren’t quite the same, anymore. before, there was only pain to fill the gaping hole in her chest, and she’d bleed out into her mattress all night, stitching herself back together in the morning. she’d climb out of bed on shaky limbs, not all there - not yet. before, she’d cry into her pillow, crying out for her little girl, hands grabbing at nothing. the more she loved her daughter, the more she ached for her.

but with her love for myka comes the memory of love as something more than pain. she’d almost forgotten it could be anything else. with myka, her heart feels full again, and not only with their love, but with her love for christina, too.

as her heart swells, her muscle memory recalls when it was once this full with pure, untainted love for her daughter, before there was ever pain. suddenly, she remembers little things, moments she’d forgotten entirely. the way christina’s hair smelled after a bath; the sound of her soft breathing as she slept; the sparkle in her eyes when she’d watch her mother in rapt attention, as helena told her a story. long forgotten memories come flooding back to her like the tide coming in under the new moon.

the pain can never really be lessened, but neither can the love that brings her to the shore. and little by little, she relearns her technique, so her next set of stitches won’t come undone so easily.


End file.
